


i can fly higher than an eagle (for you are the wind beneath my wings)

by commanderofraccoons



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: And character death, F/F, Unbeta'd, honestly i cried writing this and it takes a lot for me to cry, there's lots of angst and sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 16:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7853122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commanderofraccoons/pseuds/commanderofraccoons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr prompt: "Can you write something about Lexa and Anya? Like from the beginning. Anya picking Lexa to be her second and what she thought of the little night blood. Through how they grew to have a sister like relationship. How Anya comforted Lexa after the conclave and the loss of Lexa's childhood. How she comforted her through Costia’s death. And maybe in the end Lexa breaks down thinking of her and Clarke comforts her."</p>
<p>or</p>
<p>Four times Anya is there to comfort Lexa, and one time she isn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i can fly higher than an eagle (for you are the wind beneath my wings)

**Author's Note:**

> i highly recommend watching/listening to this while/before reading: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0iAzMRKFX3c
> 
> the title comes from it, it's referenced in the story, and it's very much lexa's point of view regarding anya. i'll be moving back to my other story after this, and this would've been up sooner, but my laptop broke, and school started, so. try to enjoy it! it was incredibly challenging to write, but really fucking sad
> 
> also thank you to the anon who sent me the prompt. i hope i did it justice!

It wasn't a usual tradition for nightbloods to be anyone's second, especially for someone as young as Anya; she had just finished her own second training only two summers before. Nightbloods were supposed to have a Fos in both the current heda and the fleimkepa. However, when the commander avoids most of his duties and constantly sends out gonakrus for pointless battles, and the flamekeeper is a religious bald man with no warrior training and a terrible teaching mindset, push had come to shove. The commander wasn't entirely loved by his people-- Anya included-- and she didn't see him lasting for too much longer. There were quite a few nightblood children in this batch, and most of them hadn't even been taught how to correctly swing a sword.

 

Anya supposed she was here because of how recent her own training was. After all, these children were probably less than ten summers younger than her. Scanning the corners of the throne room, she could make out a few other generals of the commander. She recognized a few faces but couldn't remember a name to save her life.

 

A loud grunt brought her out of her thoughts, and a sparring stick was suddenly rolling against the tips of her mud-caked boots. Anya looked up, eyes hard, and waited for the culprit to come collect their training weapon. Each natblida was now facing her-- some with obvious fear in their eyes and some looking slightly impressed-- though none of them went to move.

 

A girl to the right of her snorted loudly and began walking toward Anya. Her sparring stick, however, was firmly in her grasp; the unclaimed one on the ground in front of her wasn't hers. The girl’s hair was a strange brown in color and was one of the messiest stylings Anya had ever seen.

 

“Lexa’s too afraid to come get it,” the messy-haired girl explained, leaning down to grab the aforementioned weapon. “She just can't beat me.”

 

The girl was good, Anya would admit that. She could tell.

 

_But much too cocky._

 

If anything, these children were all roughly on the same level. There was no way one was already relentlessly beating the others in their training. Narrowing her eyes, Anya reached out and gripped the stick tightly. “Then _Lexa_ should come up here and take her own weapon back. Face her fears.” She easily yanked it from the now frightened-looking girl’s hands. “I don't bite.”

 

Arrogance would get the girl nowhere in their world. It'd probably get her killed.

 

The room settled into an immediate silence, and Anya could see the other generals watching her with interest. Picking a second probably wasn't supposed to involve this much threatening. A few of the children made eye contact with each other before taking a few steps back. She didn't quite understand what they were doing at first, but then the path was cleared, and only a small brunette girl remained in her line of vision. Though she was sitting on the floor, the girl was visibly shaking and her cheeks were tear stained. Her hair, she noticed, was also messy and thick with dark brown curls. Did no one teach these kids how to groom themselves?

 

Anya looked back at the other children who were now fully focused on her. Each of them were glancing up at her expectantly, as if they thought they'd be receiving a prize for showing her which one of them was Lexa. She shook her head and threw the sparring stick to the girl in the back of the room.

 

“So you are all natronas.” Anya shook her head. “You _never_ give away a fellow warrior.”

 

The children noticeably blanched and glanced around at each other nervously. They didn't even think they were being tested.

 

Anya would never choose someone so fickle with their loyalty to be her second; Anya would never _befriend_ someone with such fickle loyalties. She guessed that only left the one weeping in the back of the room.

 

She rolled her eyes.

 

How did she get so lucky?

 

Some of the other generals were whispering amongst themselves now, obviously witnessing how the children had treated their fellow natblida. Gonas were meant to be selfless. Who would've thought the teary-eyed one would become the most sought out of this group?

 

Anya was now making her way to the back of the room, lightly shoving the arrogant girl as she walked by her. She had trouble suppressing a snort as the girl immediately stumbled, her own sparring stick falling from her grasp. Once she found out that girl’s name, she'd make sure to tease her whenever she got the chance. Her attitude needed severely adjusted.

 

She kept walking before she finally stood in front of the other girl-- Lexa. Anya crouched to her knees, making direct eye contact with her. Lexa was practically seeping nervousness; her grip on her returned sparring stick was vice-like, she was squirming slightly on the floor, and her lip was very close to forming a pout.

 

Anya also noticed that she was easily the smallest out of all of them. Of course she would be stuck with the runt.

 

“Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim.”

 

Lexa's eyes briefly widened before looking down in slight shame. She gently nodded, and without any assistance, shakily stood to her feet.

 

“Sha.”

 

Anya smirked, noticing that the girl was only about a head taller than her while crouching. She'd gain some height soon, hopefully, or else she’ll be falling behind the rest of the nightbloods rather quickly. Some muscle wouldn't hurt either.

 

“How old are you, Lexa?”

 

“Eight summers,” she answered, puffing out her tiny chest in an effort to show confidence, though the watery eyes and the running nose seemed to take away from the desired effect.

 

So she was only nine summers older than the girl. Not only was Lexa the smallest of the group, but she was most likely the youngest as well. Anya had her work cut out for her, but she loved a challenge.

 

“How would you like to be my second?” She asked, searching Lexa’s face for any sign of emotion.

 

The girl gaped, brows knitting together in obvious confusion. She clenched her jaw nervously, and her mouth twitched to her left side. “I- I thought you were coming over here to punish me,” the girl admitting, flinching a bit. “Please don't hurt me,” she begged, her bottom lip beginning to quiver again.

 

“Do not cry,” Anya ordered, though she was more than a little confused herself. Perhaps the girl was being bullied by her peers-- it seemed like it, anyway. She supposed physical correction wasn't an option to help Lexa, which Anya didn't entirely mind anyway. It wasn't her favorite learning method, and if the girl was going to be traumatized by it, then she'd simply find something else. Maybe she'd make her carry her weapons. They were even too heavy for Anya after a long distance of trekking through the woods. Perhaps it'd help her build some muscle. “I’m asking if you would like to be my second. I’m Anya.”

 

Lexa didn't answer for a few moments, seemingly a little overwhelmed with what she had just been asked. “I know I should’ve went up when Luna knocked my sparring stick out of my hand,” she started, dropping her gaze to the floor, “but I admit that I was afraid.” She swallowed. “I don’t want to be afraid.”

 

_Luna._ She stored the name away for later use.

 

“Well,” Anya sighed, “I’m not sure I can make you unafraid.”

 

Lexa nodded, as if she was expecting that answer.

 

“But it's perfectly human to feel fear. There's nothing wrong with being afraid.”

 

She looked up at her, eyes curious and searching. Anya didn't know too much about Lexa, but she was willing to learn more. Training an underdog seemed like it would be a thrilling experience. However, she had to remind herself that she was possibly going to be training the future commander. The girl’s fate was pretty much set in stone-- she would either die during her conclave or die while serving as the commander. Getting attached wasn't really option. Realizing that one day-- a day that may very well be close by-- those puffy eyes would never open again left Anya with a feeling of dread. Even though the girl hadn't accepted her offer yet, Anya made it her personal goal to see that Lexa would fight her way through her conclave untouched. She'd make it to commander, and Anya would lay down her own life to make sure that Lexa’s would remain in tact. This fearful _baby_ would live a long life if Anya had anything to say about it.

 

She was already getting attached.

 

“I will be your second.”

 

Anya's promise was finalized with that sentence.

 

* * *

 

 

“Keep up, kid!” Anya shook her head, feeling the beginnings of a smile pull at the sides of her lips. Her training with Lexa ended a little earlier in the day, but travelling back to the commander for the night was essential. The natblidas lived in an abandoned metropolis left behind from the old world. It was massive in size and could definitely hold thousands of their people. Lexa often talked of making it a place for everyone-- if she would become commander, Anya wouldn't be surprised if the girl followed through with it. It was Lexa’s favorite place to be.

 

Her second was trailing behind her, most likely struggling under the weight of Anya’s weapons and armor on her back. She’d been her second for almost three summers now and was finally starting to physically look like a true gona. Lexa had more hair on the top of her head than anyone she had ever seen. If she didn't force her to braid it, Anya would swear it would make her too top heavy to actually do anything.

 

She heard a whimper behind her, and Anya, turning around to tease Lexa, stopped dead in her tracks. Lexa was on the ground, and all of Anya’s gear lay forgotten around them. Frowning, Anya hurried toward her, worried that the weight might've simply been too much for the girl. Leaning closer, she gasped at the sight of the Maunon dart embedded in Lexa’s neck. Snarling, she scanned the trees with wild eyes and grabbed two swords from the pile on the ground. They were quite a distance away from the Mountain; it was worrying that they had managed to travel so far. Another dart whizzed past her ear, and Anya’s breathing began to quicken. Never had a natblida been taken by the Mountain Men, and there was no way she was letting them take Lexa while she was still breathing.

 

A beige color was peeking out to the right of a tree in front of her, and Anya heard herself growl. Dropping her swords, she snatched a knife from the forest floor, and threw it full speed at the man’s chest, effectively puncturing him. His suit had ripped in the process, and blistering sores began appearing on his visible skin. The screams were deafening, though Anya was more than relieved that Lexa was still there. It was very possible that the man wasn't alone, but she didn't want to stay around long enough to find out.

 

Anya grabbed as many of her weapons as she could, shoving them in different places on her person. She gently removed the dart from her second, wincing as a drop of black blood ran down to the nape of her neck. Throwing Lexa’s limp body over her shoulders, Anya trudged her way through the rest of the forest, constantly scanning her surroundings for any more surprises.

 

She carried them to a clearing, and after making sure they were in no immediate danger, set Lexa down on a patchy strip of grass. Anya sat next to her, leaning back until she was propped up on her right elbow. Lexa’s little chest was still barely moving, and the dart wound on her neck was beginning to clot.

 

Anya had tried fighting off her affection for the girl right at the start. It wasn't encouraged for your second to be your weakness, but Anya had secretly grown to fiercely love Lexa. Despite their age difference, Anya and Lexa found themselves in each other’s presence even in the rare moments when Lexa wasn't occupied with training. Somehow, a friendship had formed. She spent almost all of her free time with Lexa, and when she wasn't with her, she found herself wondering what Lexa was doing, how she would react to something, and even if Lexa missed Anya in the same way she missed her.

 

Anya didn't have any siblings, but Lexa was definitely as close as she would get.

 

They fought like it too.

 

She and Lexa had a close relationship, that was true, but they often clashed just like she had seen real sisters do. As Lexa grew more comfortable around her, they began arguing over technique, fighting stances, and even logical teachings. Originally, their arguments grated Anya’s nerves beyond belief; she even considered retracting her offer of being the girl’s Fos.

 

Anya told herself that Lexa’s potential was the reason she stayed. She could say it until she was blue in the face, but that would never make it true.

 

Perhaps she and Lexa were friends in a past life. Maybe even sisters in the times of the old world. That was her reasoning for caring so much. Anything else simply sounded ridiculous.

 

Lexa hadn't moved an inch, and Anya was beginning to worry. Maunon darts typically just knocked their victims unconscious for a period of time, but that didn't mean they didn't have fatal ones as well. If Lexa stopped breathing, Anya wasn't sure what she would do. They should've already made it back to the commander by now, but Anya wasn't taking another step until Lexa was up and moving.

 

As if she could read her thoughts, the girl’s eyelids began fluttering slightly. Anya held her breath as her second started squirming next to her. Her brows were creased in concentration, and low humming sounds were emitting from the back of her throat. Lexa’s mouth parted, a bit of drool dribbling down her chin, and she slowly opened her eyes. She blinked multiple times, gaze still unfocused as she attempted to sit up.

 

“Costia?”

 

Anya snorted, rolling her eyes at Lexa. _As if Costia was the one who just saved her life._ She was kidding, of course. Lexa’s little crush on the blacksmith’s daughter was harmless, and Anya quite enjoyed teasing her about it. They were young, but they were both completely smitten with each other. Once she got older, Lexa would probably have a harder time staying attentive in training if her relationship with Costia continued to grow.

 

Anya wasn’t looking forward to it.

 

Lexa, much more alert now, tilted her head and eyed Anya curiously. “I saw them,” she rasped out, bringing her knees to her chest.

 

Though she was relieved that Lexa seemed to be in a much better physical condition, Anya couldn’t help but worry. It was possible that the darts had a long lasting effect; she was hoping the girl’s health wouldn’t take too hard of a hit. Assuming Lexa was talking about the Mountain Men, Anya frowned and scooted a little closer to her. “I should’ve been more aware of what was happening around us. It’s my fault.”

 

Lexa frowned, confusion flashing across her face. Shaking her head, she furrowed her brows. “No, not that. It was a memory,” she explained. Pausing for a moment, she relaxed her features and stared out in front of her. “I had an older brother, I think, and a baby sister whose hair was as dark as my blood.” A soft smile began pulling at her lips. “My mother told me that I had my father’s eyes.” She fell silent, and the air between them seemed to shift. “Anya,” Lexa croaked out, eyes beginning to fill up with tears, “I can’t remember their faces.”

 

Anya knew her own parents. They were still living, and she was grateful for that. It was very rare that she was able to see them with her duties, so she couldn’t imagine how Lexa must feel. After it had been discovered that she was a nightblood, Lexa was plucked from her home and was forced to start her training at the mere age of six. For reasons unknown to Anya, nightbloods were kept from their family once they began learning the ways of the commander. Lexa’s family had been moved into Floukru territory, and after the brutal war with them only one summer prior, it wasn’t likely that the girl’s family made it out alive. Not when a Trikru family was residing with another clan. Perhaps that was another reason Lexa spoke of peace among the clans so often; she probably knew her family’s fate.

 

She didn’t respond, and her second’s frame began to wrack with sobs. Comforting was not something that Anya did-- she avoided anything to do with feelings. Except Lexa was her own sort of family member. Seeing her in pain was not something she ever wanted; the girl’s happiness was among one of her concerns as her Fos, and Anya would move mountains to make sure Lexa was content. Literally.

 

Lexa leaned against Anya’s left shoulder as her tears began to subside. Neither of them needed to say anything-- they both knew what the other was thinking. Perhaps they couldn’t be around their biological family. Maybe they’d never get the chance to see them again. In Lexa’s case, that seemed to be true.

 

But they had this moment. They had each other. Family wasn’t always blood, and they had taken it upon themselves to make a family of their own.

 

It wasn’t much, but it would get them through it.

 

“I love the stars,” Anya admitted, tone something akin to tender. She was staring up toward the sky, eyes alight with a sort of childhood curiosity. “I like that religious belief. The one that says we become stars after our fight is over.”

 

Lexa peered up at her, and the tears stains on her cheeks were identical to the ones from their first encounter. “Would you like to be a star?”

 

Anya nodded quickly, smile practically beaming at the thought. “I would. I'd like to look down and watch over everyone. See what's going on.”

 

Though the topic was a little dark, it did nothing but clear their previous tension. The both of them were stargazing now, and their run-in with the Mountain was completely forgotten for the moment.

 

“What's that one star?” Lexa extended her arm in the air above her, pointer finger stretching toward a twinkling light to the left of them. “It's so much brighter than the others.”

 

“You've never been told the myth?” Anya asked. “It's usually a story children enjoy before bed.”

 

“We aren't told many stories.”

 

Anya nodded. Nightbloods were not like other children their age. They were forced to grow up too early. Bedtime stories were out of the question for them.

 

“It isn't actually a star,” Anya started, immediately garnering Lexa’s attention. “It's said to be from the old world. People live there, and they watch us all the time. They have technology like the Mountain, but they're not supposed to be our enemies.”

 

“People are living there?” Lexa asked incredulously. “Why haven't they come down?”

 

Anya shrugged, “Perhaps they don't want to involve themselves with our wars.”

 

“Do you think they'd come down if we were at peace?”

 

She chuckled. “Maybe, kid, maybe.”

 

* * *

 

 

Anya had never felt so nervous in her life. Her stomach was twisted in nauseating knots, beads of sweat were slowly dripping from her temples, and her heart felt like it would shatter her rib cage at the pace it was going.

 

The commander had died recklessly in battle the night before, and the conclave was already in progress. Each nightblood would be fighting to the death, and Anya’s worst fear could be realized sooner rather than later. She was confident in her training with Lexa, but she didn't feel as comfortable with herself not there to protect her. The girl had to do it on her own.

 

She felt selfish. Warriors were not meant to be selfish; they were supposed to fight for those who could not. Anya wanted Lexa to come out of this alive, but she knew that killing those she grew up with would destroy her inside. Lexa didn't have the best relationship with the other nightbloods, but she had no ill will directed at any of them.

 

Even if Anya hated Luna.

 

The conclave, in Anya’s opinion, was a terrible way to choose their commander. They should all be able to keep their lives, for their training and teachings could make them valuable members of their society. It made the process difficult, especially if the commander wasn't in power very long. She didn't understand why their had to be so much death in their world; Lexa was only thirteen summers, and she could possibly already be dead.

 

Earlier, Costia had sat next to Anya while they waited but left after becoming a little too overwhelmed. If Lexa got out of this alive, Anya assumed their relationship would only grow stronger.

 

She was going to lose her mind when that happened.

 

The other generals-- the same ones from her first meeting with Lexa-- sat around her with impassive stares and bored eyes.

 

Anya would kill for that sort of composure right now. She was noticeably squirming, earning an occasional glare from those around her. Pacing would help ease her mind, but one of them might genuinely spear her in the back if she even tried to stand up from her seat.

 

Her throat was constricted and dry, but no one had come around to offer them anything. _A little water wouldn't hurt._ _Titus is probably doing this on purpose. Nomonjoka_.

 

Before Anya could even realize it, the victory horn was blaring from the inside of the tower. She stood, folded her hands behind her back, and began briskly walking toward the entrance. Once the horn was sounded, people were allowed to enter the battle room; it was time to meet their new commander. Anya only hoped that it would be Lexa who was still standing.

 

And to her utter relief, she was. Lexa, dripping with black blood that didn’t seem to be her own, was sitting on the floor of the battle room with her legs bent against her chest and her chin resting on her knees. Bodies littered the floor around them, and Anya could practically feel the emptiness inside of Lexa in that moment. Her second-- now her _commander_ \-- was blanking staring in front of her, as if she wasn’t really seeing the people surrounding her. Weapons were strewn about the floor, but two black-bladed swords were to the side of Lexa. Using two swords was Anya’s speciality, but her second picked up on the skill rather quickly. It seemed as if she won the conclave _because_ of that. Anya closed her eyes briefly, breathing out a long sigh of relief that her _sister_ survived. She’d need a lot of comforting and healing time, but Anya could deal with that. Having her there was the important part.

 

Titus, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, walked up from behind Lexa, a troubled look on his face. “Not all the novitiates participated in the conclave,” he breathed out, looking down at the top of Lexa’s head.

 

Anya blinked, knots beginning to form in her stomach yet again. The rest weren’t all dead? Then how could the horn sound if Lexa wasn’t the only remaining nightblood?

 

“Luna ran,” Lexa whispered, and if Anya hadn’t seen her mouth move, she would’ve never believed that the voice belonged to her. It sounded broken, as if the girl was struggling to keep up appearances for her audience. She most likely didn’t want to break in front of Titus; he didn’t believe in showing any sort of emotion. “She was gone before it even started.”

 

_Of course she was. How weak._

 

“So has the flame chosen her?” One of the unnamed generals asked, gaze fixated on a lifeless body to the left, an unreadable expression on their face.

 

“Luna kom Trikru is a natrona to her people. A gonakru has already set off after her,” Titus states, “Leksa kom Trikru is our Heda.”

 

Anya felt someone grip her elbow, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see Costia inching closer to her. She must’ve come running when she heard the victory horn.

 

Titus leaned down, placing a tentative hand on Lexa’s shoulder. “She is to be prepped for her ascension.”

 

The others in the room slowly began filing out, but Anya and Costia stayed in place, focused completely on Lexa. Anya, hesitant to leave Lexa so soon, stepped forward, and crouched down similar to the way she asked Lexa to be her second. It had even been in the same room.

 

“I’m so proud of you,” Anya spoke honestly, and she could feel herself becoming more emotional. Lexa, though battered and bruised, survived her conclave. Part of Anya’s promise was completed. “Costia and I are here for anything you might need, Heda.”

 

Lexa frowned at her new title, gaze bouncing back and forth between Anya and Costia. She nodded gently, finally beginning to stand to her feet.

 

“Thank you,” Lexa mumbled, “Thank you both for being here.”

 

“You two need to wait outside,” Titus scolded, pulling a tattered book from the inside of his robes. “Also,” he continued, “The commander is no one’s second. You have little use here anymore.” His eyes were locked with Anya’s, and she could feel Costia’s grip on her tighten. If the girl wasn’t holding her back, she would’ve lunged for him.

 

“Titus,” Anya growled, stepping closer to him, “There are so many things I could say to you. Things I’ve been holding in since I’ve met you,” she chuckled humorlessly, “Lexa will always be my second, and your teachings will never change that.”

 

“Anya, don’t.” Costia nudged her nervously, pulling on her arm.

 

“You can try to take love away from her,” Anya continued, eyes still hard, “but know that I will make sure that doesn’t happen. She’s not a Maunon machine, Titus, she’s a girl.”

 

He didn’t say anything, opting instead to turn away from her. “Come, Lexa.”

 

Lexa, however, didn’t move.

 

She was fixated on Anya, a mix of emotions on her blood-stained face. They were all staring at her now, waiting for her to say something. Instead of speaking, she launched herself at Anya, wrapping her arms around her waist. Drops of black blood were staining Anya’s clothing, but she didn’t care in the slightest. Anya returned the embrace wholeheartedly, resting her chin on the top of Lexa’s head.

 

“I love you, Anya.”

 

The glare Titus sent her way made the previous stress of the day so much more worth it.

 

* * *

 

 

Arguing with Titus at Lexa’s conclave was not the smartest decision she’s ever made. From that moment, the bald man was hellbent on keeping Anya as far from her former second as possible. He had gotten his way; Anya had been forced to switch positions with a dark-skinned general named Indra. She was stationed in TonDC, while Indra and Gustus protected Lexa’s every move. Titus believed her to be a threat-- someone to keep Lexa feeling unwanted emotions.

 

Thankfully, Costia was still there in her place.

 

She _was_ , anyway.

 

Anya had received the news from one of her scouts, and without hesitating, she chose her most durable horse, and rode until the sun began rising again. She hadn’t seen Lexa since that previous winter, but no one was standing in her way for this trip. Costia had been captured, she had heard that, but she figured Lexa would do just about anything to ensure her safety.

 

She must not have been quick enough; the Ice Queen had acted first.

 

If she knew Lexa well enough, and she certainly did, then she figured her former second would be guarding herself from just about anyone. Titus was most likely shoving his teachings at her, and without Anya there to challenge him, she worried that the girl would fall prey to them. Perhaps she already had.

 

Lexa had been their commander for three summers now, and Anya could not be prouder of her work. Just as she had promised, all clans except for Azgeda were united, and the nightblood training center had been turned into their capital city, Polis. She had yet to find a way to beat the Mountain, but she had a feeling that they would fall during Lexa’s reign. Call it a gut feeling.

 

Anya rode without stopping, and her horse was about ready to buck her off for it. He was a fantastic riding horse, and she felt guilty making him ride such a long way; she’d make sure to reward him once she got to Polis.

 

Upon recognizing her, the guards allowed her to enter the opening gate. Anya left her horse at the commander’s stables and practically fought her way to Lexa’s room, which Anya was told she hadn’t left for quite some time. Titus didn’t know she was here, and he hopefully wouldn’t find out at all. He’d probably just find more ways for the two to be separated.

 

She shooed the guards stationed at Lexa’s door away, knowing that the commander may very well break down around her. Lexa was holding it all inside of her, she was sure of it, and it needed to make its way out somehow. Anya hoped she could be the one to break down her walls.

 

She knocked, and as expected, there was no answer. The door wasn’t locked, the guards had said, so she would have to force her way inside. Whatever Anya was expecting, this wasn’t it; the commander’s chamber was massive. Different animal furs decorated the furniture, and it looked like there was a hallway on the left side of the wooden-framed bed.

 

It was what was in the bed that worried Anya.

 

Lexa, staring in much the same way as she did after her conclave, was sitting on her bed with a small box in front of her.

 

There were no tears. No screaming. No anger. Anya couldn’t make out a single emotion. She sat down on the other side of the box, which was now the only thing between herself and Lexa. Her former second glanced up at her, but her face betrayed nothing. It was as if she was looking right through her. Her stomach clenched, feeling quite like she was just plunged into a bucket of ice.

 

“I shouldn’t have let Titus stand in my way. I should’ve been here for you earlier.”

 

Anya thinks Lexa’s eyes flicker with life for a moment, but it’s gone before it can even really register. Wordlessly, she reaches out in front of her and unlatches the box. Lexa meets Anya’s eyes, tilting her chin downward. She blinks and pulls the lid from the top.

 

The smell of rotting flesh immediately hits her senses, and Anya openly gags as she attempts to keep the contents of her stomach _in_ her stomach. As she realizes what’s in front of her, the smell is suddenly the last thing on her mind. Costia’s face is staring up at her, and Anya almost chokes. Only her head is in the box, but the girl’s eyes are wide open, as if she’s begging Anya for help. _Her eyes have more life in them than Lexa’s._ She goes to close the girl’s eyelids-- something her people do out of respect for the dead-- but Lexa tightly grabs her forearm before she can touch her.

 

They stare at each other for a moment, and the smell comes back stronger than before. Her eyes begin to water, and she pulls her arm from Lexa. Anya, unable to see the severed _head_ of the girl who was in love with her sister, stood from the bed, and held her breath.

 

“You need to burn what you have. She needs peace, Lexa.”

 

“This _is_ all I have,” she finally spoke, voice cracking. “I’m not sure what Nia did with the rest of her.”

 

“That _joka_ ,” Anya breathed, “I can send out my gonakru. There are more than enough of us, and they are used to the north’s frigid temperatures. We can attack and-”

 

“No.”

 

Anya blinked. “What do you mean? No? Then who are you sending to attack Azgeda?”

 

“I’m not sending anyone,” Lexa answered matter-of-factly. “Nia is already on her way here. The coalition is almost complete.”

 

“The coalition?” Anya gaped, unable to keep the confusion out of her tone. “You’re- you’re going to offer Azgeda a place in the coalition? Their queen _cut off_ Costia’s head and _sent_ it to you!”

 

“I know what she did!” Lexa snapped, eyes now flashing with anger. Anya almost felt relieved at the show in emotion. “I know- I know what she- what she,” she stopped, a horrified expression flashing across Lexa’s features. “Nia- she,” Lexa’s bottom lip began wobbling, and before Anya could prepare for what was about to happen, Lexa burst into tears.

 

She leaned forward, slammed the lid shut, and wrapped her arms around herself. Lexa’s entire frame was wracking with sobs, and Anya felt completely hopeless. The girl had been through so much for her age; she was still younger than Anya had been when she became her Fos, yet she had seen more death than anyone she knew. Lexa had only been their commander for three summers, but she had accomplished more than any heda before her. That, unfortunately, came with consequences.

 

Anya slowly walked back over the bed, eyeing the box nervously as she did so. Placing a hand on Lexa’s back, she pulled her into her. The girl practically sank in relief and began weeping against her chest. They could’ve stood there for a lifetime; frankly, neither of them knew how long they were in that position. When she entered the room, Anya hadn’t locked the door. She hoped for the girl’s sake that no one would come in with them like this.

 

“I love you, Lexa.”

 

Lexa’s sobs seem to slow at that, and Anya was relieved that she still managed to have that effect on her. She was worried that Titus would rub off on her without her around to threaten him. Costia must’ve kept her grounded; she’d be forever in debt to the girl for that.

 

“We need to build a funeral pyre. It’s not healthy to keep this in here with you.”

 

Lexa nodded slowly, hesitantly relenting. “Could I at least keep a braid?”

 

“You should always keep a braid.”

 

* * *

 

Lexa took the words to heart. Especially with Anya’s own braid.

 

She was lounging in a wooden chair on her tower’s balcony, observing the stragglers leaving the marketplace in the center of the city. The sky that night was as black as any other. Stars were scattered everywhere for as far as the eye could see, accidental shapes being formed because of some of their placements. Lexa was clutching Anya’s braid, which was caked with the same color of mud that was on her boots the day they met, in her right hand tightly. When she left her room, Clarke was snugly wrapped in the furs on her bed. She hoped to return before she woke up and realized she was gone.

 

Lexa hadn't been given the proper time to mourn Anya. Not like she did with Costia. Sure, in silent moments, she would grieve. Sometimes, she'd hear something that she would immediately want to tell Anya about-- only to remember that Anya was no longer there to listen. She'd been so focused on taking down the Mountain, Pike, Nia, and the rest of their enemies to really take time the appropriate time for herself.

 

She had finally achieved a period of peace.

 

Costia wasn't there to see it, and neither was Anya.

 

It felt sort of pointless. Lexa had Clarke-- yes, she certainly had Clarke, and she was grateful for that. However, it didn't seem entirely fair to her.

 

Her family, whose faces were practically nonexistent in her memory now, had proved impossible to find.

 

Her first love had been ruthlessly murdered.

 

Her trusted guard defied her in an effort to save her.

 

Her teacher had betrayed her.

 

And her former mentor, her Fos, her best friend, her sister, her _family_ , was gone.

 

Lexa tried to fight back the oncoming sob.

 

A funeral pyre hadn't been built for Anya. Clarke's people had buried her in their own way, which didn't quite sit right with Lexa. Anya was Trikru; she deserved _their_ send off. Even if Clarke and her people meant well by it, Anya should've gotten her own culture’s goodbye.

 

Most of her memories with Anya had tears in them, she realized. This one, though Anya wasn't physically there, would be no different. She always had a knack for comforting Lexa, but now she wouldn't be there to do it.

 

Her vision blurred as more tears fell from her eyes. Lexa's face was splotched with red, her cheeks were soaked again with wetness, and choked noises were trying to make their way out of her throat as she wept. It was an ugly sort of crying; the kind that most people did in private-- she supposed it was more therapeutic than anything.

 

Anya had taught her everything she knew. To fight. To think. To dress. To understand. To sympathize. To learn. To _love._ Costia had been there, of course, but the love she shared with Anya was much different. One that she was sure she'd never feel again.

 

The universe had gifted her Clarke only to take her one sense of family away in the same moment.

 

It was more than cruel.

 

Anya _deserved_ to see what Lexa made for herself. What Lexa made for her people.

 

“Lexa?”

 

She was still openly crying, but she turned to face the person calling for her anyway. Her hodnes was standing in the entryway of the balcony with their bed furs wrapped around her shoulders and a concerned look on her face.

 

“Why are you crying? Are you hurt?” Clarke rushed toward her, eyes looking her up and down for some fatal wound.

 

Lexa shook her head and grabbed one of the worried girl’s hands. “I'm fine.”

 

Clarke frowned, unconvinced as Lexa loudly sobbed in front of her. She'd never seen her display so much emotion; the only times she had seen cry was when they were in bed together. But this was not the same sort of crying. This was broken crying. She lifted a hand to Lexa’s face, gently caressing her cheek as the girl began softly whimpering.

 

“It's just,” Lexa managed between sobs, “Anya.”

 

Clarke held her breath and nodded slowly, as if understanding. She had been expecting this talk for some time now, though she expected it would've been earlier. Maybe it hadn't sunk in for Lexa until now.

 

“You know,” Clarke started, voice laced with tenderness, “she was with me when she died. She was in my arms.”

 

Lexa let out a cry of pain and hung her head. She never asked Clarke the details of Anya’s death; it wasn't something she was sure she wanted to know. Her face was now out of Clarke’s eyesight, and she scrunched it up tightly as another wave of sobs came over her. Crying in front of her lover wasn't something she was entirely used to, but she felt more comfortable than she would with anyone else. After all, the only person who could successfully comfort her was Anya.

 

“I'm so sorry I couldn't save her, Lexa,” Clarke tearfully continued and placed a comforting hand against her thigh.

 

Lexa shook her head and lifted her head slightly. “You don't need to apologize, Clarke. You know that.” She wasn't crying as hard now, though her body felt drained from the previous exertion. “She was everything I could've ever wanted to be. Anya always pushed me… always wanted me to be better. She's the reason I’m able to lead, but no one knows that. No one’s ever known that. She got no recognition.” Closing her eyes, a few more tears fell. “She was always so selfless, Clarke. I was always put above her own needs. She was only nine summers older but was a sort of hero to me. I- I looked up to her. I just wanted to make her proud.”

 

Clarke stayed silent, though her eyes were beginning to water.

 

“I loved her, Clarke,” Lexa admitted, leaning her head against her shoulder. “She was the only family I had.”

 

Clarke held her for a few moments as she continued to sob, and she had trouble fighting back her own tears. She and Anya had a complicated relationship, but if Anya’s relationship with Tris was anything like the one she had with Lexa, then she figured her love had to be hurting more than she let on. Anya's protectiveness had to make her the perfect mentor.

 

“She should still be here, Lexa, I know. But she was proud of you. You should've seen the way her eyes lit up when she told me the commander used to be second.” Clarke chuckled, a lone tear escaping her eye.

 

Lexa wept helplessly, desperately clutching the furs around Clarke. Her body was shaking, and there were even streaks of tears on her neck. Clarke brought a hand up to the back of her head and rocked her gently, earning more cries from the girl in her arms.

 

“I'm here.”

 

The world continued around them. Polis had gone silent since, meaning most of its residents were tucked in bed to prepare for the next morning. A few of the homes had candles burning in their windows. Perhaps they forgot to blow them out. Maybe they were still using it for a light. Anya's story about the people who lived in a star ended up being true-- Clarke was living evidence of that. The twinkling light from the myth was now gone and had been for almost an entire summer, but that didn't mean another didn't take its place.

  
One star, seemingly dancing in the sky, shone particularly bright over the Polis Tower that night. As if it were watching over someone.

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on tumblr about it: http://commanderofraccoons.tumblr.com


End file.
